Quidditch
by MiaRoseT
Summary: Harry Potter loved Quidditch. Draco Malfoy hated Quidditch.


**Disclaimer: All characters and games of Quidditch belong to J.K. Rowling.**

Quidditch

Harry Potter loved Quidditch.

_Draco Malfoy hated Quidditch. He also hated Harry Potter, but he had never believed that their rivalry on the Quidditch pitch could be purely blamed for this hatred. _

Not only did Harry Potter love Quidditch, but he also loved anything that involved flying and broomsticks.

_Not only did Draco Malfoy hate Quidditch, but he also hated anything that involved flying and broomsticks._

Harry could even pinpoint the exact moment when he fell in love with Quidditch and flying and broomsticks. It was back in first year, on that cold morning when Draco Malfoy held Neville Longbottom's Remembrall teasingly out in front of him and shouted, "Come and get it, Potter!" before he took off on his broomstick to get away from him.

_Draco could even pinpoint the exact moment when he fell out of love with Quidditch and flying and broomsticks. It was back in first year, on that cold morning when he held Longbottom's Remembrall teasingly out in front of Potter in the hope that he would attempt to chase after him and make a complete fool of himself on a broomstick. _

And Harry had done just that, ignoring all the warnings about breaking the rules as he mounted his broom as though he had been flying for years and forced it into the air so that he could chase after him.

From that day on, he was hooked.

_Unfortunately, it had turned out that Potter was actually quite good at flying, maybe even better than Draco, although Draco would never have admitted that out loud._

_From that day on, flying was never the same again. _

Harry loved flying so much that two years later, when he was asked to focus on a happy event in his life in order to conjure a Patronus, the memory of his first few moments on a broomstick had instantly come to mind.

_Draco hated flying so much that right up to his third year, before his thoughts and nightmares had been invaded by images of Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort and the Battle of Hogwarts, some of his worst memories had been the ones involving announcements that Potter had been awarded a place on the Gryffindor Quidditch team a year early, coupled with flashbacks of Potter surging forward to catch the Snitch before Draco could, which he knew would result in long letters from his father expressing his disappointment. _

Harry was so obsessed with Quidditch that a few years later, when he had just begun his sixth year, he could smell the unmistakable scent of a broomstick handle in the Amortentia potion one morning in Professor Slughorn's classroom, mixed in with the smell of treacle tart and the flowery scent of Ginny's hair.

_Draco loathed Quidditch with such a passion that a few years later, when he had just begun his sixth year, he felt physically sick when he smelled the unmistakable scent of the wood of a broomstick handle in the Amortentia potion in Slughorn's classroom._

_It was the scent that usually assailed his senses just before Potter succeeded in snatching the Snitch away from him at the last second, a smell that was always followed by a victory for the Gryffindor team and endless criticism for Draco from his teammates. _

_It had therefore been something of a relief when the sweet and sugary smell of a dessert coming from somewhere else in the room had mixed in with the unbearable scent a few seconds later, and Draco had been able to convince himself that there had definitely been no scent of love in that potion. _

Harry's discovery that he loved Quidditch and flying had in many ways taken him by surprise.

_Draco's discovery that he loathed Quidditch and flying had in many ways taken him by surprise. _

In the weeks leading up to his first flying lesson, he had worried that he would hate anything involving a broomstick.

_In the years leading up to his first flying lesson, he had felt certain that he would love anything involving a broomstick. _

This initial worry could be traced back to Harry's first trip to Madam Malkin's in Diagon Alley, when he had first laid eyes on a boy with blond hair, cold grey eyes and lips twisted into what seemed like a permanent sneer as he talked about his desire to join the Quidditch team and boasted about how he was going to bully his father into buying him an expensive broomstick.

In that moment, Harry had been convinced that he couldn't possibly have anything in common with that boy who seemed to love flying so much, the boy who at the time had reminded him of his cousin Dudley, and he had therefore reached the conclusion that he might loathe Quidditch.

_This initial assumption could be traced back to the few happy memories from Draco's childhood, when his afternoons spent soaring through the air on a broomstick and looking up in shameful fascination at the Muggle helicopters overhead had provided a momentary escape from the boring discussions around the dinner table with his parents about the 'good old days' when the Dark Lord had been at the height of his power. _

_Draco's flying skills were one of the few things that actually impressed his father, and he had always believed his father's claims that his son would be one of the best Quidditch players at Hogwarts, and would certainly be offered a place on the Slytherin team in first year._

_Draco had tried to share his wish to join the Quidditch team with the boy standing next to him in Madam Malkin's a few weeks before he started at Hogwarts, feeling some sort of strange desire to impress the boy, even though he had looked slightly dishevelled and had been wearing what looked suspiciously like Muggle clothing. But he hadn't seemed to be particularly interested, and Draco had been convinced that he couldn't possibly have anything in common with that boy, who at the time had reminded him so much of the Muggles who occasionally strolled through his village while his father complained loudly about their presence. _

Harry's concern that he would loathe Quidditch had stayed with him as the day of the first flying lesson at Hogwarts approached. He had felt strangely nervous when it was announced that the Gryffindors would be taking their first flying lesson with the Slytherins, and he had felt surprisingly uncomfortable at the thought of making a fool of himself on a broomstick in front of Draco Malfoy, especially when he was forced to listen to the loud conversations from that same boy from across the tables in the Great Hall as he bragged about how skilled he was on a broomstick.

_Draco's belief that he would love Quidditch had stayed with him as the day of the first flying lesson at Hogwarts approached. He had felt strangely excited when it was announced that the Slytherins would be taking the lesson with the Gryffindors, and he had entertained himself (and half of Slytherin House) with stories about his skills on a broomstick, along with several loud predictions that certain members of Gryffindor House were bound to make fools of themselves at some point during the lesson. _

Harry had quickly worked out that Quidditch was one of Draco Malfoy's favourite topics of conversation, especially in first year after Harry had been awarded a place on the Gryffindor team and Malfoy felt as though he had somehow been cheated out of his rightful place on his own team. In fact, with the exception of Ron and Oliver Wood, Harry had never met anybody else who talked so obsessively about Quidditch.

_In first year, Quidditch had been one of Draco's favourite topics of conversation, and he had often discussed it between mouthfuls of sweets and chocolate sent from home when he was sitting at the Slytherin table, usually as Potter glared at him from across the Great Hall, furiously stabbing his fork into his treacle tart whenever Draco mentioned the word 'broomstick'. _

It had therefore been something of a revelation to Harry when Malfoy let go of the Remembrall (probably in the hope that it would fall to the ground and smash into pieces), and he had been able to dive down and grab it tightly in his hand, at the same time coming to the realisation that perhaps he did quite like flying after all, even if this new hobby could apparently put him in dangerous situations at times.

_It had therefore been something of a revelation to Draco when he let go of Longbottom's Remembrall (in the hope that it would fall to the ground and smash into pieces), and Potter had been able to pull off a spectacular dive and catch it just in time. As the Gryffindors cheered, Draco had started to wonder if he really did like flying that much after all, especially if it was going to lead to such humiliating defeats by a boy who at that point he had been rapidly growing to hate. _

After the flying lesson, Harry had also been forced to begrudgingly admit that maybe he and Draco Malfoy did have something in common after all.

_Draco had tried his best to dispel his new dislike of Quidditch, but it had been extremely difficult to appreciate flying again, especially after Potter managed to get a place on the Quidditch team, and Draco had been forced to endure a long Christmas and summer holiday listening to his father express his disappointment about the matter. Although the fact that Draco had mentioned Potter and his broomstick at least ten times a day for the whole of the summer holiday probably hadn't helped the situation very much. _

Harry's love of Quidditch had waned slightly by the end of first year, especially after he had been unable to play in the final match of the year and Gryffindor had lost out on their chance of winning the Quidditch Cup.

_Draco had vowed to try his best to rekindle his love of Quidditch at the start of second year, and he had felt somewhat pleased when his father bought him and the rest of the team expensive new broomsticks, and Draco was then (entirely coincidently) chosen as the new Slytherin Seeker. _

However, Harry's love of the game had rapidly returned one morning at the start of his second year, when the Slytherin team swaggered arrogantly towards him as he stood there with his own team in the middle of the Quidditch pitch.

The Slytherins had stopped a few feet away from the Gryffindors, giving them a chance to notice the brand new broomsticks that Lucius Malfoy had obviously bought for them as a bribe to get his son a place on the team.

_For several weeks after Marcus Flint made the decision to appoint him as the new Seeker, Draco had often smirked to himself in class as he thought about all the new opportunities that he would soon have to taunt Potter when they were both on the Quidditch pitch and out of the Professors' earshot. _

As the insults started to fly around, Harry's eyes had been drawn to Draco Malfoy, dressed in his green Seeker's uniform and snarling threateningly over in his direction, sending a very clear message that he was going to stop at nothing to beat him as soon as they played their first match against each other.

As Harry glared back him and felt the familiar rush of adrenaline that his games of Quidditch always seemed to provoke, he had started to think that he was probably going to love Quidditch _a lot _that year.

Harry's prediction had definitely been correct. In spite of the rogue Bludger that had been bewitched to follow him around the Quidditch pitch to try to knock him off his broom, Harry had still enjoyed the Gryffindor versus Slytherin game; he had still felt that glorious rush of adrenaline when he soared through the air, trying to avoid the two things that pursued him relentlessly throughout the match-one was the Bludger, the other was not an object but a person. The same person Harry knew he would never fully be able to escape from, even after they were back down on the ground and the Bludger had been destroyed.

_Draco had come fairly close to loving Quidditch all over again during the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match, what with the rogue Bludger chasing Potter all over the pitch and a Slytherin victory within his reach. _

_But in the end, the Snitch had ended up in Potter's hand instead of his. Potter had grabbed it even though it had apparently been dancing around right in front of Draco's nose. All because Draco had been too distracted to notice it. _

Even though Harry spent most of the game flying away from Malfoy and towards the Golden Snitch, everything had been so confusing with the cold and the rain, and at one point the lines had blurred and Malfoy and the Snitch had been right next to each other.

The new position of the Snitch had made it all so much easier for Harry, as it meant that from then on, there had only been one direction to fly in in order to emerge victorious.

So he had done just that, flying rapidly in the direction of Malfoy and the Snitch, trying as best he could not to make it too obvious that he was about to reach out and make a grab for it.

_The worst thing about Potter's victory was that Draco couldn't even explain how the disaster had happened. One minute Potter had been flying a few feet away from him, and Draco had been unable to resist the urge to throw a few insults at him. And the next minute, Potter had been flying towards at him at full speed with flashes of anger in his green eyes, and all that Draco had been able to do was to fly out of the way as a voice in his head screamed, _Get away from Potter!

Harry had always understood the rules of the game: He knew that his team needed to earn the most points to win. He knew that he had to catch the Snitch. In that particular game, he had also known that he needed to get to the Snitch before the Bludger finally caught up with him.

So what did it matter that the voice in his head that usually shouted, _Get to the Snitch! _had on that one occasion shouted, _Get to Malfoy! _instead? He had still caught the Snitch, in the end.

More importantly, he had beaten the Slytherins. And although he had been injured, knocked unconscious and rushed to the hospital wing, Harry had felt certain that he still loved Quidditch.

_After being forced to endure what felt like weeks of ranting and raving from Marcus Flint and various other members of Slytherin House, Draco had decided by the end of second year that he still hated Quidditch._

As the final days of his second year approached, Harry had decided that he didn't even care very much about the fact that the majority of the Quidditch matches had been cancelled that year. He had already played the most important game. And at that point he still had several years ahead of him to beat the Slytherins all over again…And to win the Quidditch Cup, of course.

_Draco's first hint that he could still be obsessed with Quidditch, in spite of his hatred of it, had come during his third year at Hogwarts, when he spent many an evening plotting ways to use both his fake injury and Potter's fear of Dementors to his advantage, in the hope that he would ensure a victory for the Slytherin team. _

Harry's first hint that his love of Quidditch could sometimes border on the obsessive had come during his third year at Hogwarts, when he spent many an evening thinking about the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match scheduled to be played during the first term.

_At first, Draco had blamed this obsession on Marcus Flint and his threats to his team to beat the Gryffindors or else, but then, after spending every single Potions class drawing pictures of Potter falling off his broom, and barely touching his food in the Great Hall because he was too busy miming the imagined falling-off-the-broom scenario whenever he caught Potter staring at him, Draco had started to suspect that maybe the obsession was all his. _

At first, Harry had blamed this obsession on Oliver Wood and his frantic pleas to his team to beat the Slytherins no matter what. But then, after feeling surprisingly disappointed when it was announced that Slytherin would not be playing against Gryffindor in the first match due to Malfoy's 'injury', coupled with Wood's apparent indifference to the same announcement, Harry had started to suspect that maybe the obsession was all his.

_Draco's suspicions were confirmed during the final match, when he had been so determined to prevent his rival from catching the Snitch that he had thrown himself forward and grabbed hold of Potter's broom, and he had then felt a rush of adrenaline so strong that it was almost difficult to control when he caught a glimpse of the fury in Potter's eyes. _

Harry's suspicions were confirmed during the final match, when he had been so determined to win the game that he had flown unnaturally close to Malfoy to prevent him from catching the Snitch first, and he had felt a rush of anger so strong that it was almost difficult to control when Malfoy grabbed hold of his broomstick to try to slow him down.

_Draco wasn't sure why he had enjoyed that moment so much, as he had snatched Potter's broomstick away from him on many an occasion in first year in an attempt to torment him, and he had also wasted precious time glaring in the broom's direction, silently letting it know just how much he resented it. But he had never seen such an intense look in Potter's eyes before. _

If Harry had given that particular moment much thought, perhaps he would have considered the possibility that his outburst of anger had been slightly strange. After all, Malfoy had snatched Harry's broomstick right out of his hand or simply glared at it furiously on several occasions before that final match, especially during their first year at school.

_The rest of that game would have been perfect, if Potter hadn't decided that it would be a good idea to fly unnaturally close to Draco, so close that their legs kept touching. _

_It hadn't been enough to slow Draco down, but it had been enough to distract him slightly, enough of a manoeuvre to allow the doubt to creep into Draco's mind and force him to believe that Potter might just thwart him again. _

Harry had later decided that perhaps his anger and anxiety could be blamed on a fitful sleep the night before due to his disturbing dreams of the Slytherin team flying towards him on dragons. However, he had been unable to think of a logical explanation for his ever-increasing obsession with Quidditch.

_After Potter caught the Snitch, Draco had been unable to stop himself from staring as the Gryffindors were handed the Quidditch Cup. In that moment, as he stood there glaring at Potter while he was embraced by his Gryffindor friends and teammates, Draco had decided, with a rush of anger and what felt suspiciously like jealousy, that he finally had his explanation, not for his obsession, but for his ever-increasing hatred of Quidditch._

Flying could save people's lives. That was Harry had learned during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year, when his broomstick had thankfully appeared just in time and he had been able to fly away from the dragon to safety.

From then on, flying had no longer been about Quidditch and petty rivalries between the four Hogwarts Quidditch teams. He had no longer been playing a fun game.

_Flying could save people's lives. That was what Draco had learned from behind his hands during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year, after Potter managed to Accio a broomstick just in time, and he had been able to fly away from the dragon and towards victory yet again. _

_Draco had planned to spend the first task sneering and smirking and making loud predictions about how long Potter would last in the tournament, so he had felt both confused and surprised when he had been unable to look during Potter's first round with the dragon. If he had given the matter much thought, perhaps he would have acknowledged the fact that by the time he reached the end of fourth year, the possibility of Potter's serious injuries or defeats hadn't seemed so amusing any more. Everything had seemed to be getting much more serious. _

_Instead, he had simply told himself that he had felt that Potter was so undeserving of a place in the tournament that he had been too disgusted to watch._

Later that year, when he was tormented by nightmares of Voldemort's return and Cedric Diggory's death, Harry had also learned that flying couldn't always save everybody, it couldn't always change things.

_In the weeks that followed the first task, when he was tormented by nightmares of dragons that for some reason knew how to Transfigure themselves into his father, and the nightmare version of himself frantically tried to fly away from them, only to end up falling to the ground, Draco had also started to worry that one day, flying might not be able to save him the way it always seemed to save Potter. _

_After all, flying couldn't always change things._

_Yet in some of his other nightmares, it had been Potter lying on the ground after falling from his broomstick instead of Draco. Those nightmares had confused and preoccupied him the most. _

The Quidditch pitch could be a dangerous place at times. That had been Harry's unfortunate lesson in fifth year.

_Events on the Quidditch pitch could lead to dangerous situations at times. That had been Draco's unfortunate lesson in fifth year. _

He had discovered this after the Gryffindor versus Slytherin game when Malfoy had been standing close to him, throwing his usual cruel insults around, and Harry had allowed his usual feelings of anger and hatred to take over, right up to the point where he actually lashed out at Malfoy, earning himself a ban from the game.

_He had discovered this after yet another humiliating defeat by the Gryffindors, when he had been trying to get a reaction out of Potter and he had pushed him just a bit too far, and Potter and his friends had actually started to fight with him. _

It was a shame really, that an event on the Quidditch pitch had taught him such a harsh lesson that year, especially after the small comfort that flying had been able to provide the previous year, but Harry had long since decided that he had very little over control over his hobby and the reactions it provoked.

_Draco's had always believed that he wanted to provoke such a strong reaction from Potter, he had even gone out of his way to write an insulting song about Weasley before the game in the hope that it would make Potter angry and get his full attention, but Draco had also believed that he would have the upper hand when arguments like that happened, he had believed that he would emerge as the victor from any possible duel or fight. _

Things had been getting dangerous for Harry; his anger had been getting dangerous. Perhaps his obsession had started to get dangerous; perhaps he should have seen his ban from Quidditch games as a positive thing.

Instead, he had felt furious when he thought about not being able to play.

_Potter's subsequent ban from Quidditch should have provided Draco with hours of amusement and taunting, but later that evening, when he stood in front of a mirror in one of the school bathrooms, wondering if Potter had done any lasting damage to his face, a terrified voice in Draco's head had warned him that when the inevitable battle between him and Potter occurred away from the Quidditch pitch, Potter might be the one to beat him. _

_That was when he had realised just how dangerous things could get. _

After his ban, Harry had still thought about Quidditch all the time. He thought about how Ginny had missed the Snitch in one of the games when he could have caught it sooner. He thought about how much he wanted to be playing as Seeker in her place. He thought about how much he missed Quidditch.

_Draco had also thought about the disturbing idea that he actually missed his Quidditch games against Potter…even though he still despised Quidditch._

_Quidditch. Potter. Flying. Potter. Broomstick. Potter. Fear. Potter. Confusion. Potter. Victory. Potter. There had always been one form of hatred to replace the other. _

Not once had the thought crossed Harry's mind that his obsession might fade in the near future.

_People changed with the passing of time. If Draco had had a moment to think about this idea in sixth year, he might have noticed that most of his friendships had fallen apart, that the novelty of childhood activities such as taunting Potter and his friends had worn off and that he had very little interest in life at Hogwarts any more. _

People changed with the passing of time. That was something that Harry had slowly started to realise as he moved into his later years at Hogwarts. Friendships and relationships changed. Some friendships deepened; others became strained and fell apart. People developed new interests, or in some cases, obsessions. The novelty of childhood activities and interests started to wear off.

Harry knew all of that, but at the same time, if somebody had told his thirteen year old self that his obsession with Quidditch would vanish almost overnight during his sixth year at Hogwarts, he would never have believed them.

_If somebody had told his thirteen year old self that his strange obsession with Quidditch would have faded almost to indifference by sixth year, Draco might have felt slightly surprised. But when he actually reached sixth year, he had been much too worried about his parents' safety and far too terrified about what Voldemort was asking him to do to even take a moment to think about flying and broomsticks. _

Harry wasn't even sure how exactly his obsession had disappeared so quickly. One minute he hadn't been able to stop thinking about the upcoming Gryffindor versus Slytherin match and his desire to catch the Snitch before Malfoy, and the next minute he had been half-heartedly pursuing a replacement Slytherin Seeker who definitely wasn't Malfoy, and it had suddenly hit him that he no longer cared that much about winning the Quidditch Cup.

In fact, the sixth year Quidditch matches had started to seem rather boring.

_Draco had his suspicions that Potter had felt exactly the same way by that point, as whenever he had turned a corner or climbed the stairs, he was almost certain that he had caught flashes of green eyes or jet black hair, even though Potter should have been concentrating on Quidditch training. _

_And when he had stood face to face with Potter in a corridor just before one of the Gryffindor matches, Potter had been wearing his Quidditch gear, but he hadn't appeared to be particularly interested in playing the game. He had even attempted to stall for time by asking Draco questions about where he was going, and Draco had still felt those green eyes on his back as he walked away._

Harry had often wished that his sudden loss of interest in Quidditch hadn't happened, as his games and training sessions would have been the perfect opportunity to spend more time with Ginny, but he couldn't help how he felt.

He couldn't help that he would have preferred to have skipped the sixth year games altogether in order to follow Malfoy around school for longer. He would have willingly sacrificed his place on the team for the entire year just for one chance to see what Malfoy was up to in the Room of Requirement.

_Potter had no longer been interested in Quidditch, but he had definitely still been obsessed with something. _

Harry was certain that if anybody had ever asked him directly about his waning interest in Quidditch, he would no doubt have blamed it on one of several distractions: perhaps his new-found feelings for Ginny, or his belief that there were more important issues to focus on, or the fact that he had simply outgrown the game.

But deep down, he knew that there had only been one distraction.

Quidditch. Malfoy. Flying. Malfoy. Broomstick. Malfoy. Love. Malfoy. There had always been one obsession to replace the other.

_Flying could save people's lives. Draco had been forced to accept this during the Battle of Hogwarts, when his only hope of survival had been pinned on the half-blood boy with his dishevelled hair and his broomstick. _

Flying could save people's lives. Harry had been forced to learn this all over again during the Battle of Hogwarts, when he had been trapped by the flames in the Room of Requirement, and a broomstick had been his last hope, not only of saving his own life, but also the life of the boy with blond hair, cold grey eyes and lips twisted into what seemed like a permanent sneer.

_But in that moment, Draco hadn't cared about blood purity or feelings of hatred or rivalries on the Quidditch pitch. He hadn't cared about Weasley or Granger or any other Gryffindor. _

But in that moment, Harry hadn't cared about sneers or insults or rivalries on the Quidditch pitch. He hadn't even cared about Ron's shouts of disbelief over what he had been planning to do. And he definitely hadn't needed to fly away from Bludgers or dragons.

_All that Draco had cared about was trying to save his friend, and grabbing hold of the hand of the boy who would always be better than him at flying._

All that Harry had cared about was using the broomstick and his flying skills to get up higher than the flames so that he could find the boy who had always shared his obsession.

_There had been no points to score, no insults to throw around. Just a hand, and a broomstick, and three words in Draco's head that had seemed both familiar and unfamiliar: _Get to Harry!

There had been no Snitch to dive down for, no points to score. Just a broomstick, and a hand reaching out for his, and those words in his head that had seemed both familiar and unfamiliar: _Get to Draco!_

Perhaps it had been the life-threatening situation, or the fear mixed in with the adrenaline, or simply a deep-rooted desire to do anything possible to save everybody, but in those terrifying moments as he flew through the air, something in Harry's mind had told him that deep down, he had never _really _wanted anything bad to happen to Draco.

_Maybe it had been a fleeting sense of relief, or a sense of confusion brought on by the heat and the flames, but in those terrifying moments as he held on tightly to Harry, something in Draco's mind had told him that perhaps, deep down, he had always wanted Harry Potter to win._

But then they had been abruptly thrown out of the flames and back into the heart of the battle, and Harry had looked down on that same boy, who had sunk to the floor and could no longer look him in the eye.

_But then they had been abruptly thrown out of the flames and back into the heart of the battle, and Draco had been unable to do anything other than sink to the floor as the tears flowed and Potter looked down on him. _

Harry had seen no hint of gratitude, or remorse, or any sign of an acknowledgement of what had just happened. Instead, Malfoy had remained on the ground, crying over the loss of his friend, getting ready to run away as soon as the tears stopped flowing.

_Draco had cried over the loss of his friend, and also over the loss of a friendship that he had never had. _

_He knew that anybody else in the same situation would probably have felt a rush of gratitude, but all that Draco had been able to feel was his usual rush of resentment._

In that moment, Harry had known. He had known that he and Malfoy were about to part ways so that they could go back to fighting on separate sides, the way that they had always done, both in the air and on the ground. He had known that Malfoy would run right back to the Death Eaters, half-heartedly confirming his loyalty, at least until they were no longer winning.

_It had been inevitable that he would have to run away from Potter so that he could pledge his allegiance to the Death Eaters again in order to keep his parents alive._

Harry had also known that he would no doubt run or fly to save Draco Malfoy again later in the night, and, if he was still alive, he would try his best to help Malfoy and his parents at some point in the future when the battle was over, even though nobody would understand why, even though he would never understand himself. But it wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference.

_As he fled, Draco had also had a horrible feeling that Potter might run or fly after him at some point to try to save him all over again, perhaps even after the Battle of Hogwarts. But it wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference._

Flying couldn't always change things.

_Flying couldn't always change things._

After that moment outside the Room of Requirement, somewhere deep down, an older, more mature and more cynical voice in Harry's head had made the decision that if by some miracle he survived the battle; he would never get back on a broomstick again.

_After the incident in the Room of Requirement, Draco had been too afraid to even think about touching a broomstick again. _

In the future, there would be no more Slytherin versus Gryffindor matches to play, no more trading of insults in the build-up to the games. No more danger, no more risks, no more fire, no more dragons.

After the battle, Harry would make his life so much easier by playing it safe. He would let Ginny go on to be the professional Quidditch player if she wanted, let her live out the dreams of the younger version of himself as he sat there quietly in the crowd and applauded her efforts.

_Draco had also decided that if he ever had a son of his own, he would allow him to live out Draco's previous Quidditch-playing dreams at Hogwarts, if he wanted. _

_But Draco himself had too many traumatic memories of Quidditch and broomsticks to ever be able to make his peace with flying. _

Harry had been sure that Malfoy would also make a similar decision at some point, and in the years that followed the Battle of Hogwarts, he had been forced to admit that not only had his prediction been correct, but also that he and Draco Malfoy now had something else in common: they both seemed to hate flying with a passion.

_As the journalists wrote insulting articles about the Malfoy family and praised the Chosen One for his heroic deeds, Draco couldn't help but notice that they rarely wrote anything about Potter's love of Quidditch, and he wondered if Potter now felt the same way about flying and broomsticks. _

Nobody was ever made aware of Harry's new-found hatred. Those feelings stayed firmly locked in the back of his mind. As the journalists wrote about his heroic deeds and claimed that he was now living out his happy ending, there had been no reason to talk about his hatred.

His adult self definitely hated flying, but after being forced to endure Quidditch game after Quidditch game sitting in the Minister's box and sharing confusing looks with Malfoy that might also have been angry glares from across the pitch, and interview after interview about his hobbies and personal life, Harry had quickly learned that it was easier to claim that the opposite was true.

The questions from fans and journalists were always the same:

His favourite colour, a happy memory, his favourite food, his favourite place, how Ginny was doing, his ambition, his biggest regret, his feelings about certain members of Slytherin House in the years that followed the Battle of Hogwarts, whether he still loved Quidditch.

Harry's official answers were always the same:

Red, the first time he rode a broom, treacle tart, The Burrow, she's doing fine and really enjoying her Quidditch training, to help rebuild Hogwarts, or to be promoted to Head of the Auror Department, depending on the year the question was asked, that he hadn't been able to save everybody...

_Yet there were moments when Draco attended various Quidditch games with various pure-blood girlfriends, trying in vain to appear mature and sophisticated as he sat hidden away at the back of the stand, and occasionally, he would stop talking to whatever girlfriend happened to be sitting next to him and look up at the Minister's box. Sometimes, Potter would tear his eyes away from Ginevra Weasley, who was always flying above them, or he would stop talking to Kingsley Shacklebolt and stare right back at him. _

_As the two of them sat there looking into each other's eyes, both of them wearing matching expressions of discomfort, anger and mild curiosity, Draco would always think about how some things had changed, while others were still exactly the same. _

Harry Potter loved Quidditch. But he hated Draco Malfoy.

_Draco Malfoy hated Quidditch._


End file.
